Nightmare Waltz
by DestinyBlitz
Summary: [Orochimaru/F!Reader] "There was a terrifying edge to the voice, but it was not a tone she could reject. In fact, she accepted it with the entirety of her being."


**A/N: Oh, hey there! Finally some new content is flowing! While this is a bit of an ambiguous one shot, I had a lot of fun writing it. It was originally a tidbit written for my friend, but I ended up really liking it, so why not share it?**

 **I believe it's also common courtesy to mention that this IS rated M, so expect some limey/lemony goodness up ahead. Have fun!**

:: Nightmare Waltz ::

It all started with a sickeningly sweet smell. A torturous, nauseating and dank smell that made her nostrils tingle. Then, her eyelids fluttered open, and a new world was laid bare before her. A young girl such as herself should not have to experience such a horrendous sight, one which made bile rise up her throat. She doubled over, and her lips parted as she was hit with a wave of discomfort. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, and she could do nothing but shiver. She had landed in a location which might as well be the very epitome of death. And she was bound, thus greatly restraining her movement.

Next came sound. A voice. One which made her heart and body clench in delight. Why, she could not understand – there was a terrifying edge to the voice, but it was not a tone she could reject. In fact, she accepted it with the entirety of her being. She wanted to hold her hands out to the source of the voice. Her sight grew blurry, and the sweet smell invaded her nostrils again. She identified the smell as a mix of chemicals, a drug – so she was under the effects of it, and it was still lingering in her system.

Her sight cleared once more, allowing her to absorb the features of the man in front of her. To her, he was like a shadow, veiled in mystery. Present, yet unattainable. Heat spread throughout her, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not look away. Why was that?

She could hear that voice again – entrancing her in a sensual dance. It took her soul in its bare hands and played her, played her like an instrument, and the melody he extracted from her was so soft, she doubted it was audible. She was glad, because it was her moan.

The man stepped closer. Her body stiffened in anticipation, and she dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand. He ran his tongue over his lips, and she did the same. He came closer again, and she leaned forwards, waiting for his touch. But she did not receive it, and her face unknowingly fell. The man replied with a chuckle, one with endless depth and smoothness. She wanted to hear it again, but she dared not ask. Instead, she reached out again, hoping to grasp even a strand of his long, onyx hair.

She could see his eyes more clearly now. What was that look in his eye? Was it…pity? Interest? Amusement? He finally responded, and gently cupped her cheek with long fingers. She shuddered against the frigid temperature of his hand, the way his thumb rubbed circles into her skin, and the long smirk he bore. She knew he was aware of the effect he was having on her. But did she care? Not one bit.

His hand left her cheek, and she whined at the loss of contact. He hushed her. She obeyed. His index and middle finger then forced her lips open, and he took the opportunity to let his fingers delve in her mouth, coating them in saliva. He moved them against her tongue, ordering her to suck properly. She did, and the heat in her body increased – her face felt hot, and she was pressing her thighs together, hoping he wouldn't notice how uncomfortably wet her panties were right now. But he did.

He told her it was the way she smelled – and then promised he'd reward her if she was patient. Patience sadly wasn't a virtue she was born with, and she was both quivering in anticipation as well as moving around, unable to control her limbs.

His fingers had no taste, but she could feel how experienced they were – the roughness of his finger pads especially. They were so hard against her mouth, and the masochist in her demanded more. She felt violated, and she relished it. Another moan.

He said her name for the first time. This time, something inside her started to unravel, and as his fingers pushed in and out of her mouth, rubbing against her lips and tongue, she was overtaken by another burst of heat. Once her mouth was clear, and his fingers were dripping with her saliva, he spoke to her once more.

Oh, his voice did wonders to her. It was so sultry, and every spoken word held forbidden promise. He kneeled down in front of her, helping her out of her shorts and undergarments, which grew to be more of a bother than anything. His gaze was sharp and analytical, and he examined every inch of her being without restraint. All she currently wished for was to be filled to the rim. Her sight blurred again, and she could feel all her liquids running down her inner thigh.

It was then she saw his tongue. Long, so very long. Agile, and sharp. Her eyes followed its every movement as it slithered towards her, brushing past her damp folds and then thrusting deeply against her very core. A desperate cry tore itself from her throat, and she screamed his name again and again. Her words made no sense however, and as his wet fingers moved expertly against her sensitive bud, she lost control of every fibre of her being. She exploded into a million pieces, and even after recovering the bit of consciousness she had, he would not stop. Again, his index finger circled her clit, and his snake-like tongue pushed against her walls, and she was so sensitive, so as soon as she regained her sight, her consciousness was torn away from her again.

And so a torturous cycle began, and she moved between light and darkness. Again and again, she was submerged by pleasure so intense that she knew no longer whether she was conscious or not. And as she sunk to her knees, unable to move any longer, he had filled her mouth with his length, moving punishingly into her, depriving her of oxygen. She gasped for air reflexively, and she had barely come down from her previous orgasmic high as her taste buds were assaulted with a strong, salty liquid. She choked, and he scolded her quietly for spilling everywhere. She felt herself clench again, and with every caress or touch, her skin burned up.

His pale skin glistened in the darkness, now covered with a thin sheen of sweat – both his, and hers. He now cradled her in his arms as she lay silent, luscious lips parted, hair dampened by sweat and tears, skin bruised. He held her tight, tight enough for her to feel the safety of his arms, even within the chains of unconsciousness. She felt no malice, and even if there were any, she would welcome it as she had his voice.

It was speaking to her again, in a more hushed tone, as if not to wake her from her deep, deep sleep. His eyes crinkled in amusement, and he congratulated her. What for, she did not know. But within the depths of her sleep, pride welled in her chest, and she savoured the smell, his smell, and the remainders of that sickeningly sweet one.


End file.
